LOGINAlexei
By the time darkness settles over the keep, my body is tired.
Training went well. Better than well. Shields up, feet where they should be, fewer idiots exposing their throats for no reason. Marcus even grunted something that might’ve been approval.
It still doesn’t quiet my thoughts.
I’ve already done the usual things to bleed it off. Drills. Sparring. A run around the ramparts in the cold air until my lungs burned. A long, scalding wash in the barracks bath to scrape the day off my shoulders.
AlexeiThe hall has never been this quiet during my time here.Kieran stands in the center of it. No throne. No raised dais. Just him on the flagstones, a few paces from the foot of the high table. Behind him is one empty chair, and behind that chair is me.My hands are loose at my sides. My stance says, relaxed. My wolf says, let me kill something
KieranThe morning of the trial dawns grey and sharp.No dramatic storm. No symbolic sunburst. Just flat, colorless light leaking over the courtyard stones, like the sky is holding its breath with the rest of us.Marcus meets me outside the stairwell to the cells.“Alpha,” he says. His voice is as neutral as it ever gets. That’s how I know he’s tense.“
AlexeiHis eyes flash. “You’re not nothing,” he says fiercely. “You’re not some… experiment I’ll move past when I’m bored.”“I know that,” I say.“Do you?” he presses.I shrug one shoulder. “Most days.”“Alexei-”“The logic is sound, Kieran,” I say, because if I don’t say
AlexeiThe problem with running morning drills in the main yard is that I can’t un-hear things.“Again!” I shout. “Shields up, feet apart. If my fist can fit between your boots, so can an enemy blade.”Groans. Shuffling. The clatter of wood on wood as they reset.Tarek mutters something rude under his breath. I smile, pleasantly, and smack his shield hard enough to rattle his teeth.“Use your legs, pup,” I say. “Or I’ll borrow them.” The line adjusts. It’s better, but still not
KieranI wake up sore and smug.The soreness I expected. My shoulders ache when I try to stretch them. My wrists protest when I flex my fingers. There’s a deep, satisfying heaviness in my muscles, the kind I usually only get from a day of drills or a week of anxiety.The smugness is new.I lie there for a moment, eyes still closed, taking inventory. Warmth at my back. A heavy arm slung over my waist. A broad chest pressed against my spine, rising and falling in slow, steady breaths.I’m wrapped in
AlexeiBy the time darkness settles over the keep, my body is tired.Training went well. Better than well. Shields up, feet where they should be, fewer idiots exposing their throats for no reason. Marcus even grunted something that might’ve been approval.It still doesn’t quiet my thoughts.I’ve already done the usual things to bleed it off. Drills. Sparring. A run around the ramparts in the cold air until my lungs burned. A long, scalding wash in the barracks bath to scrape the day off my shoulders.







